


Ghosts of Kings Passed

by BebbanburgBeats



Category: The Last Kingdom (TV), The Warrior Chronicles | The Saxon Stories - Bernard Cornwell
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:28:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27193096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BebbanburgBeats/pseuds/BebbanburgBeats
Summary: Edward's sees the ghost of his Father, Alfred
Comments: 3
Kudos: 1





	Ghosts of Kings Passed

**Author's Note:**

> Another Tlk-tober offering!
> 
> This time I got the prompts Alfred, Ghost, Candles, Dramatic (only dramatic if you squint though!)

It was late in the evening and Edward was sat at his desk, running his hands through his hair. He had had a long, arduous day that had culminated in him pondering on making some important decisions for Wessex in the coming days.

He hadn’t been king very long and, in truth, he was still overwhelmed by the situation. Even though him and his father had not always seen eye to eye, King Alfred had been the best mentor and role model he could have asked for while in preparation to take over the throne. But all the time that Edward had spent shadowing his father, it had not been enough. Edward always second guessed his decisions, always wondered what his father would have done, if he were still alive and still King.

Edward got up from the table and went to light more candles. He still had a lot of work to do, papers to go through, a kingdom to run. But no matter how hard he tried to concentrate on them, he was too distracted. The weight of his previous decisions weighed heavily on his shoulders tonight and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched. Whenever he felt eyes on him, he looked around but saw nothing except the flickering of candle flames, casting shadows on the walls of his chambers.

One such particular moment, Edward not only felt eyes on him, but a slight breeze rustle the papers in front of him. Looking around tiredly again, Edward saw a shadow in the corner. A very familiar shadow, with what looked like a look of disappointment on his face.

“Father?” Edward asked in confusion. In a moment, the shadow was gone. Not having had the chance to take a proper look, Edward knew it must have been a trick of the candle light and his own tiredness haunting him. His father, Alfred, could not be here. He was dead, buried in the ground.

Going back to the papers on the table, Edward shuffled them back into position and resumed the task. However, a few minutes later the air in the room definitely seemed to stir and the papers moved again. Edward thought little of it and stood to check the window to make sure there wasn’t a draft.

Moving back to the table, Edward put his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He knew he should sleep, but there was always so much to do. He felt the weight of the crown on his head and the burden of a kingdom on his shoulders.

Looking down at the papers, Edward reached out to put them back in a pile. Before he did so , however, he saw the one that was poking out the most from the pile. Curious, he took it out to study. It was a note from one of the Lords. Reading the news, Edward was surprised at what he saw. It was the information he needed. It contained details of a meeting Lord Aethelhelm had had with the Danes. Behind Edward’s back. Someone he thought his closest advisor, turned out to be working against him. It all made sense now. The advice Aethelhelm gave him, it had started the current mess Wessex was in.

Looking up, stunned at the revelation, Edward looked up to see the shadows again. But this time they didn’t disappear. He looked through the candle flames and definitely saw his father. Nodding once, Alfred looked at his son.

“Father... is that you?” The ghost of Alfred studied his son. Now satisfied that Edward had seen the paper and understood what it meant, Alfred’s mouth twitched up ever so slightly. Maybe he could trust his son now not to take advice from snakes like Aethelhelm so blindly. Alfred hoped that Edward would look to his mother, Aelswith, as an advisor instead.

Alfred’s ghost looked into the face of his son one last time before he faded away.

Shaken, Edward whispered into the now empty room, staring at the spot where his father had been. “I’m so sorry, Father. I will try to do better from now on. Your dream of Wessex will be fulfilled.” Edward promised, eyes shining.


End file.
